Always your fault
by arsenicRenegade
Summary: Written for i-sold-my-soul-to-hussie on tumblr Sober! Gamzee Gamkar rated T for violence...
1. Chapter 1

== Be terrified Karkat.

You tried to be quiet with all of your heart but Gamzee, sober or not knew you all too well. You hid in a ball underneath a table somewhere. You didn't know where and you didn't care enough to move and find out. Your uneven breathing was quiet but your possibly ex-moirail had you figured out. You heard heavy footsteps and something dragging across the floor in the next room over. He's calling your name and some other cute nicknames that he had for you. He's going to find you some way or another.

The sick bastard saved you for last on purpose. Why didn't he just kill you first? But you know all too well that would have been letting you off easy. You deserve it. You deserve it all because you were the one to fail at moirailship. You FAILED MISERABLY. Your own fucking moirail wanted to kill you. You deserved to die, not the others. They paid the ultimate fucking price for your pathetic dribbling mistakes. Maybe he'll torture you. Make you pay what you really should be paying instead of simply dying. He might just make you have tea time with Nepeta or make you put a fashion show for Kanaya or even make you feed Equius some milk and dab his face with a towel. Or maybe even better, make you go on a date with Terezi. Could you even be more pathetic?

His footsteps got louder as he got closer and soon enough you see his feet. _"COME ON THE MOTHERFUCK OUT. it's all up and safe out here now karkles. I PROMISE I DON'T MOTHERFUCKING BITE. honk. HONK. come on karbro come out for your moirail. I'LL PLAY MOTHERFUCKING NICE. i just wanna cuddle with my palebro now. YOU CAN'T DENY A MOTHERFUCKER HIS OWN FUCKING PALEBROTHER CAN YOU? i'll be gentle. I MOTHERFUCKING PROMISE. and can I tell you a secret? I CAN MOTHERFUCKING HEAR YOU BREATHE SO DON'T EVEN MOTHERFUCKING PRETEND THAT YOUR NOT EVEN MOTHERFUCKING THERE. because we all know you're here."_

He's just a few feet away now. You can't deal with this torture. You know all he wants to do to you is tear out your throat and paint his miracles with your blood. Hell, maybe he'll even write a book with your blood as ink, even write up a subjuggulator bible as a message from the Dark Carnival and the Mirthful Messiahs themselves.

He lifts the painted clubs he was dragging on the ground and hits the table with it making a huge dent into the cold metal. He falls to his knees and puts his head on the dent on the table, letting his club clatter to the ground and roll away. In the dim light you see that he's crying. Indigo tears mixing with indigo blood. His lips were stained slightly orange. Maybe he kissed Tavros, you knew he had a crush on him but the poor clown was rejected. Maybe it was his way of being with him in his own twisted way.

You're surprised he doesn't see you in front of him. He can't hear your breathing because now he's crying so loud. All you want to do is pap him till he calms down and clean his wounds and cuddle with him till he feels better. But you can't. You can't try to redeem yourself as a moirail, what's done is done. He collapses to the floor cracking the tip of his left horn in the process. You just lay there as more blood pools around his head.

He slowly opens his eyes and sees you staring at him and he immediately collects himself and adopts a face of pure and gruesome rage as if he's had this face forever. As if it were permanently etched into his skin like the three long oozing scratches along his face. He lunges forward and grabs your shirt and pulls you out from underneath the table and stands you up. And just as you were about to beg for mercy he pushes you onto the table and lets the momentum take your head to the wall. He grabs your shirt again and his eyes soften and he cocks his head to the side. He lets go with one hand and he cups your face and you flinch expecting pain. "shoosh brother, i got you." and you open your mouth to say something but he yanks your shirt forward and pulls you into a kiss, you try to talk and struggle but he was still kissing you forcibly licking each of your teeth as you tasted his mouth, his blood, his tears, your blood, and the blood of a few others including Tavros' and Terezi's. You give up trying to struggle and move your lips against his. The kiss might have even been enjoyable if it had been under other circumstances. And as you started to kiss back he ended it as fast as it came and pushed you away to the wall yet again.

He stepped back and left you bloody and agape. He saw your sickles stuck in the walls that you threw earlier in desperation as he killed Kanaya and he slowly pried them out of the wall. You take his distraction as a chance to run away but you don't go far as Gamzee, having pried a sickle from the wall catches you from a behind in a fierce headlock yet cradling your head gently. He whispered a mixture of pale, red, and black words licking the top of your ear leaving your mind in a mess just like his was. You almost forget your sickle in his hand until he holds it in front of your face. You begin to struggle again in his arms but your strength is no match for his, he only grips you tighter.

He drags the sickle into your face three agonizing times to match his own wounds. Whispering kind words into your ear completely contradicting the complete and pure pain that's running across your face. You expect that the torture begins then, but it doesn't. He lets you go and walks away without so much as a backwards glance. The torture would be much worse than physical. You hate yourself more than ever. This was deliberate; he knew that it would scar your face and forever serve as a reminder of your past.

You don't care about the colored mess around you. You just sit down and cradle your knees staring at his old horn pile. You hate yourself for letting this happen, for being a terrible leader, for being Karkat fucking Vantas, the mutant blood. You masochistic piece of shit, you could kill yourself but that would be too easy. You deserve it; you're not even worth the time to even be killed by your best friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Years later you're just as hopeless and as worthless as you were the day you received the stigma of the rage.

You haven't seen Gamzee in 3 sweeps, and he is still all you can think of. How pathetic.

You ran. You ran as far and as fast as your feet could take you but he always caught up to you. Each time he caught up to you he had a creative weapon to torture you with, most were different forms of your sickles as this one was. In one hand he had a wooden toy sickle in one hand and one made of diamonds and ice in the other. He caught your neck with the wooden one and painted on your stomach with the other one. It was pretty how the tiny slivers of light glimmer red across the cellar walls with your poor undeserving blood.

How strange, this time you were in a cellar. Are you that used to the pain to actually notice where you actually were? How dismal. You couldn't be more pathetic than you already were but no one could ever care about you. To be pathetic you had to be WORTHY of someone's apathy. You weren't even worthy of a decent person's company.

"HEY BITCH. are you paying any attention to me sweetheart? I MOTHERFUCKING ASKED YOU A MOTHERFUCKING QUESTION SO YOU BETTER FUCKING ANSWER. Please i wanna hear your cute little voice again. OR MOTHERFUCKING ELSE. oh how i'd hate you accidentally kill someone as sweet as you!"

"OKAY! HERE I AM, SEE? IM ANSWERING, I PAYING ALL OF MY ATTENTION TO YOU, YOU'RE ALL I CAN THINK OF, SEE?"

You have now stooped so low as to beg and croon to him, to receive any kind of interaction with the one that has forever stained your memory with his beautiful purple blood. He doesn't deserve you as even a knife sharpener. He might as well use you to paint beautiful an gruesome masterpieces, dipping brushes into your already exposed veins.

"NO I MOTHERFUCKING CAN'T. just maybe you could just whine and cry just a little bit louder for me please? I MOTHERFUCKING SAID PLEASE."

And with that he yanked the wooden sickle back making Karkat run into his cold body. You let out a scream and you could feel the edges of Gamzee's lips curl into a sinister smile. He then took the sickles away and threw them into the ceiling, which they then stuck with precision into the rotted wood. He caressed your cheek and carefully turned you around and then kneeled down and began to examine your bleeding stomach.

"oh no, this simply won't do! HOW CAN I MOTHERFUCKING PLAY WITH A MOTHERFUCKING BROKEN DOLL?"

As he talked softly he caressed and tickled your stomach and as he screamed he dug sharp fingernails into tender skin. You screamed and lurched forward with every switch of mood which both angered and pleased him at the same time. He then began to cry and grab at your chest. He tangled his fingers in your long unkempt and knotted hair. When his mouth was a centimeter away from yours he began you talk in the nicest and kindest tone that was ever possible. He would rant about how he missed you and how he loved every single bit of you and how much he wished for you to be happy. When you relaxed and sunk into his body, he flipped and took a dagger made of obsidian and plunged it into your heart.

You woke up with a jump, with hands clutching your mouth and your heart. You scream out in rage, pain, love, hate and a dozen other emotions, but you struggle to even make a sound because your throat is raw from your yelling and screaming over Gamzee and the loss of your friends. That Karkat died with his friends. You are just a hollow husk of what is left of his poor abused body. You've changed completely because of him, because of those scars. And mostly because he left you without so much as a backwards glance. You miss him so much that you try in every way possible to bring him back, but you just can't do it. You recreated his pants and wear them every day just as he did, you keep long unkempt hair just as he did, you paint your face just as he did, believe in miracles just as he did, you drank Faygo and prayed to the messiahs just as he did. Everything was just. As. He. Did. You weren't an actual troll anymore. You were a copy, a miserable fake. You didn't even fucking remember exactly what he looked like anymore. Everything, every absolute thing that ever did call itself real, was your fault. Just as he did, you did.


	3. Chapter 3

== Be Sober Gamzee all those years ago

So this is what sober feels like. IT FEELS SO MOTHERFUCKING WEIRD AND YOU LIKE IT. And then it terrifies you at the same time, it makes you feel like Vriska used to feel. NOT THAT SPIDER BITCH CAN'T DO SHIT TO YOU ANYMORE. You can't control your actions as well as you usually can but you really don't feel anything. THE ONLY THING YOU WANNA FEEL IS THE RAINBOW OF THEIR COLLECTIVE HEMOSHITSPECTRUM SURROUNDING YOU. How would it feel if you could control yourself but you never could really control yourself all that much anyway. NOT LIKE YOU SHOULD THOUGH BECAUSE IT FEELS PRETTY MOTHERFUCKING GOOD TO FEEL EVERYONE'S USELESS LIVES DRIFT AWAY TO YOUR DARK CARNIVAL. You want to feel scared but you can't really get yourself to. YOU'RE REACHING FOR SOMETHING THAT ISNT MOTHERFUCKING THERE. All you can do now is sit at the back of your mind and watch this tale unfold.

YOU LOOK FOR KARKAT. NO. YOU HUNT FOR KARKAT. THAT WEAK ASSED MOIRAIL OF YOURS COULDN'T EVEN FUCKING CALM YOU THE MOTHERFUCK DOWN, NOT LIKE HE COULD HAVE OR ANYTHING. YOU DRAG YOUR STAINED CLUBS ON THE GROUND TO MAKE AS MUCH NOISE TO SCARE HIM INTO REVEALING HIS LITTLE HIDEY HOLE. YOU KNEW HIM WELL ENOUGH AND MEMORIZED THE SOUND OF HIS BREATHING. HE'S FUCKING HIDING FROM YOU, HOW MOTHERFUCKING CUTE. HE THINKS HE CAN HIDE FROM YOU. BUT SERIOUSLY, WHO IS HE KIDDING. YOU COULDN'T EVEN ESCAPE YOU, HOW THE MOTHERFUCK DID HE EXPECT TO HIDE FROM YOU.

YOU HEAR HIM BREATHIG IN THE NEXT ROOM AND YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO. THE CAT BITCH SCRATCHED THREE MARKS INTO YOUR FACE SKIN, AND AS THE PROPER MOIRAIL THAT YOU DESERVE, YOU THINK HE SHOULD BE THERE TO SHARE YOUR PAIN WITH YOU. YOU SLOWLY INCH INTO THE ROOM WITH UNEVEN STEPS, HE HUDDLES AND STRUGGLES TO MAKE HIMSELF SMALLER BUT HE MOTHERFUCKING CAN'T. THE CANDY BLOODED FUCK FACE CANT EVEN FUCKING DREAM TO MOTHERFUCKING ESCAPE FROM YOU. YOU SAY SOME THINGS THAT YOU CANT QUITE ALL UNDERSTAND BUT THEY SEEM TO WORK ON SCARING KARKAT. THIS IS PERFECT. EVERYTHING HAS GONE TO THE MOTHERFUCKING PLAN. YOU RAISE YOUR ARMS AND THEY TAKE YOUR CLUBS WITH THEM THEN YOU DROP YOUR ARMS INFRONT OF YOU WITH A LOUD METAL NOISE. You're crying for all of your dead friends, and maybe your soon to be dead moirail. YOU TASTE TEARS AND YOU WONDER WHERE THEY COME FROM. FROM YOUR MESSIAHS IS WHERE THEY SURE AS FUCK COME FROM. EVERYTHING IS A MIRACLE. AND EVERY SINGLE MOTHERFUCKING MIRACLE IS FROM YOUR MESSIAHS. YOU THANK YOUR MESSIAHS FOR THE TEARS THAT THEY SENT YOU, YOU'RE ALMOST DONE WITH THEIR MISSION. YOU FIND YOURSELF KNEELNG ON THE FLOOR JUST LIKE THE STRONG FUCKER WITH THE BOW, BUT THAT'S NOT FUCKING RIGHT IS IT.

YOU NOTICE KARKAT UNDER THE CRUMPED TABLE AND YOU REALIZE WHY YOUR THERE. BUT HE DOSEN'T. HE DOSEN'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND WHAT YOUR ALL MOTHERFUCKING BEING ABOUT. HES LOOKING AT YOUR LIPS. OH RIGHT, SOMEONE KILLED POOR MOTHERFUCKING TAVROS BEFORE YOU COULD. YOU COULDN'T HAVE HIS DEATH SO YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD AT LEAST HAVE HIS LIPS FOR THE FIRST AND LAST TIME. YOU KISSED THAT MOTHERFUCKER LIKE YOU COULD HAVE KISSED HIM BUT HE DIDN'T WANT YOU. AND NOW IT'S NOT HIS MOTHERFUCKING CHOICE. Poor tavros, POOR KARKAT. BECAUSE THAT FUCKER WAS GONNA SUFFER. YOU STOP FEELING FOR PEOPLE OR FOR YOURSLELF AND YOU LET YOURSELF FALL TO THE ICEY FLOOR. you feel a pain in your horn that you didn't feel earlier and with that, you remember your friends and how lively they all used to be. BUT NOW THEY MOTHERFUCKING CAN'T BECAUSE THEY'RE SO MOTHERFUCKING DEAD RIGHT NOW. YOU FEEL ANGRY FOR FALLING LIKE THAT AND FUCKING SLIPPING LIKE THAT. YOU ARE A MOTHERFUCKING HIGHBLOOD. YOU AREN'T WEAK LIKE THAT. AND THEN YOU LOOK UP AT KARKAT ALL MISERABLE ON THE FLOOR AND JUST PULL HIM THE FUCK UP. AS YOU GRAB HIS SHIRT HE FUCKING LOOKS UP AT YOU WITH THE SaDdest and most terrified eyes ever imaginable. all you want to do is be there for him and console him and just hold him close and apologize for everything you've done. you don't want to use words because there aren't any words that could ever describe how sorry you feel. you decide you take his face and when you do, he flinches just a bit and then you decide how to show some of your inner feelings for the last time, so you allow just a few words of calm so that you could transfer some words of blessed apology and love for your palemate. you shoosh him and his muscles relax and as he's about to say something, you kiss him with all the love you could ever muster, you even take the love that you saved for tavros and you gave it all to him. all in one moment. both of your mouths were bleeding and sore but you needed to tell him how you really felt. as he moves his lips against yours and begins to understand how you feel, you close your eyes instinctually and you lose sight of your anchor that let you control your body for so lOnG. HOW COULD YOU BE SO TRAITOROUS TO YOUR OWN MESSIAHS? THE ONES THAT HAVE BEEN WITH YOU EVEN WHEN YOUR OWN FUCKING LUSUS WASN'T? HOW COULD YOU BETRAY THE ONES THAT HAVE ALWAYS BEEN BY YOUR SIDE, THEY WERE WITH YOU SO YOU WOULD NEVER BE LONELY AGAIN. WHEN OTHER TROLLS HAD LUSII YOU HAD YOUR MESSIAHS, THEY NEVER ASKED FOR ANYTHING IN RETURN AND WHEN THEY ASK FOR ONLY ONE SMALL THING, THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY THEM? YOU PUSH HIM AWAY LIKE THE GARBAGE HE IS AND SPIT OUT THE SWILL IN YOUR MOUTH. YOU DON'T DRINK PAINT. YOU LOOK ANYWHERE BUT AT HIM IN YOUR RAGE. YOU SEE HIS SICKLES STUCK IN THE WALLS, THESE ARE THER PERFECT TOOLS FOR YOUR VENGEFUL LEADERS. THEIR HATE AND MIRTH WILL EXPLOIT AND UTILIZE YOUR HANDS TO BE THE JUDGE AND JURY. THEY WILL GUIDE YOUR HANDS TO SPREAD THE MESSAGE OF THE DARK MOTHERFUCKING CARNIVAL. IT IS YOURS AND IT IS WITHING YOUR REACH. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS STRECH YOUR ARMS AND THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT YOU WILL DO. YOU REACH FOR THE SICKLES EVER SO SLOWLY AS YOU REGAIN CONTROL OF YOUR BODY AND BEHIND YOU, YOU SEE KARKAT TRY TO RUN AWAY FROM YOU. WOW, THAT MOTHERFUCKER THINKS THAT HE CAN JUST ALL UP AND RUN AWAY FROM YOU? HELL. MOTHERFUCKING. NO. YOU CATCH UP TO HIM AND PUT HIM IN A HEADLOCK AND YOU WHISPER THE DARKEST OF BLACK WORDS OF KISMESSITUDE. YOU gRaSp his head trying to relax it and help your old palemate but you can't really control yourself entirely as you did before, As YoU WHISPER THE BEAUTIFULEST OF INSULTS YoU croon the palest and reddest of sweet nothings into his ear. oh how you wish you could heal his pAiN. BUT PAIN HE MUST FEEL TO TRULY BELONG IN THE NEW WORLD OF YOURS. YOU LIFE A SICKLE TO HIS FACE AND PREPARE TO DO WHAT THE MESSIAHS HAVE TRAINED YOU FOR. IT IS WHAT YOU WERE MOTHERFUCKING HATCHED TO DO. YOU DRAG THE BLADE ACROSS YOUR FACE 3 LENGTHY AND EXCRUCIATING TIMES. YOU RELISH IN THE TEARS THAT HE HAS SHED AND HOW HE STRUGGLED SO HARD JUST TO ACHIEVE THE SAME MIRTHFUL OUTCOME, AND YOUR DARK CARNIVAL HAS BEEN OpEn. you try to control your mouth while the rest of you is distracted by the pain you are causing your pink partner yet again. you whisper beautiful things into his ears and tell him how much you feel for him, how pale you are foR hIm. YOUR JOB IS DONE, NOTHING IS HERE FOR YOU NOW. YOU SAVOR THE PAIN HE FEELS AND THE BETRAYAL THAT BURNS HIM TO THE VERY CORE. YOU LEAVE EVERYTHING BEHIND NEVER TO REtUrN. oh how you wish to turn around and hug him into infinity, but your body isn't yours anymore. it belongs to your messiahs that use you as a tool of destruction. you have nothing in this world now.


End file.
